The Great Bedroom War

by Laurie Kellogg

  Blowing out a lungful of relief, Dani tossed her Greek omelet on multigrain toast into the drainage ditch where she’d thrown all her other discarded breakfast sandwiches. She climbed aboard the bus, smiled her thanks to the driver, and plopped into the third seat beside her best friend.

  Haley Simmons handed her a warm, fudge toaster pastry, the likes of which Dani’s mom swore could rot the teeth on a zipper. “What’ll you do when your mom figures out you’re throwing away all those nutritious breakfasts she makes for you?”

  Only eight months ago, Haley’s mother had been killed by a drunk driver. Dani suspected her friend was secretly envious of the disgusting, all-natural meals Sam forced on her.

  “The only way the Food Nazi will find out is if you or the bus driver tells her.”

  “Or we could get a flash flood,” Haley suggested. “Imagine how busted you’ll be when your mother sees two weeks’ worth of sandwiches floating in the ditch.”

  Dani laughed, picturing a little veggie armada sailing along the rural road past their house. “I’m already grounded. She caught me coming in last night. She must’ve heard me yell when I slipped on the wet porch. Would you believe she actually called the cops?”

  “Crap. Now she’ll call my dad and Allison’s mom, and we’ll be in trouble, too.”

  “Don’t worry. She’s too ticked at me to think about ratting either of you out. Instead, she’s calling my father tonight.”

  “You’ve got to talk to him before she does. Parents never get as mad if you confess.”

  When the bus pulled in front of the high school, Haley nudged Dani in the ribs and motioned toward the window. Lounging against the brick building’s side stood the entire reason Dani had risked her freedom the night before.

  Ryan Flynn already stood almost as tall as her dad, who was over six-feet. The hunky junior’s gaze shared the sapphire blue of her mom’s eyes, a color Dani regretted she hadn’t inherited.

  His dark blond hair matched the length of hers, which wasn’t saying much. Even though her curls had grown back during her maintenance chemo, her hair had been so thin and dull she’d been forced to keep it extra short. Fortunately, since Dr. Chase had taken her off the drugs, her waves had regained their thickness and luster but still barely covered her collar.

  “Do you think he’s waitin’ for you?” Haley whispered, scrambling off the bus right on Dani’s heels.

  Oh, man, she sure hoped so. Except, if he asked her out now, she’d have to tell him she was grounded. He hadn’t said two words to her at the bowling alley last night, but every time she’d looked over at him and his group of friends, he’d been watching her.

  “Hey, Dani.” Ryan fell in beside her as she and Haley headed for the door. “You left last night before I could come over and say hi.”

  She shrugged, playing it cool, even though every nerve in her was partying. The teen magazines said the fastest way to turn a guy off was to seem too interested—like some stalker-chick. “Well, hi, then.” She headed in the direction of her locker, praying he would follow.

  She had one objective for her first year of high school. It wasn’t to make the honor roll, win a spot on the cheerleading squad, or even land the lead in the spring musical. The only thing she wanted was for Ryan Flynn to ask her out and maybe take her to the junior prom in the spring. And if he turned out to be as nice as she suspected, she eventually wanted to hook up with him.

  Granted, she might be a little young to consider going all the way, but she didn’t have the luxury of taking it slow like most fourteen-year-old girls. Everything she’d read about her illness on the Internet said, since she’d already turned eleven when she developed her leukemia, she had a lower survival rate than younger children. If she relapsed, which was more common at her age, there was a good chance she wouldn’t live long enough to go to college—particularly since she didn’t have a compatible match within her family for a bone marrow transplant, and her haplotypes weren’t common enough to hope the donor registry would provide one.

  If she wasn’t going to survive long enough to get married and have kids, she could at least experience sex. After all, it must feel pretty spectacular for her mom to let out those amusement park squeals.

  Three years ago, Dani had crept down the hall to her parent’s bedroom one night to tell them she didn’t feel well, and when it dawned on her what her parents’ moaning and groaning was about, she’d bolted back to her room and shoved her head under the pillow.

  She hadn’t liked envisioning her parents doing the icky things Sam had described during her birds-and-the-bees talk. It seemed gross that a man would want to push his thing inside a woman—Ewww—and even more disgusting that she would let him. Even for a second. And the rhythmic knocking she’d heard that night, which she assumed was the bed, suggested sex wasn’t the simple, stick-it-in-a-moment affair she’d imagined during her mother’s explanation.

  Hearing her parents’ lovemaking creeped Dani out, but it also left her curious and impatient to find out what the big deal was. Despite her nervousness over the whole invasion-of-her-privates concept, she couldn’t wait to find out what an orgasm felt like. It only made sense that, if sex was awful, women would refuse to do it, and there would be no babies in the world.

  She glanced back at Ryan hurrying to catch up with her and Haley, and her heart did a little tap dance.

  Yesss! He’d followed her.

  ~*~

  The front door’s soft click yanked Sam’s attention toward the hallway. “Dani?”

  “Yes, Mother, it’s me,” the child called back in a sarcastic tone, closing the door harder than necessary. “You don’t have to call the cops again.”

  “Don’t be wise.”

  “What’re you doin’ home already?”

  “Casey let me leave work early so I could talk to you. Please come in here.”

  An exaggerated huff echoed from the hall. “I have to go to the bathroom.” Dani stomped up the steps, ignoring Sam’s request. “I’ll be down in ten minutes.”

  No doubt she would. The child had to be starving after leaving for school without her lunch.

  While Sam waited, she whipped a couple of eggs into the mixture of spinach, green onions, fresh dill, and feta cheese leftover from breakfast to make a Greek omelet identical to the one on the sandwich she’d watched her daughter toss into the ditch that morning.

  A few minutes later, Dani tromped down the steep servants’ stairs. As she reached for the cookie jar on the granite counter, Sam shoved it away.

  “Hey! I was gonna eat some.”

  Each week since Dani became sick, Sam baked a batch of all-natural oatmeal/peanut butter cookies with dark chocolate chunks to replace the processed junk food all her child’s friends snacked on.

  “Not until after you eat your breakfast.” Sam slid the plate holding the omelet onto the round, oak kitchen table. “Since you can’t be trusted to eat on the run, you’ll be getting up ten minutes earlier so you’ll have time for me to watch you swallow every bite.”

  Dani flopped into her chair, muttering, “Maybe I should start building an ark.”

  “An ark?” Sam frowned, handing her a fork. “For what?”

  “The next flood.” Dani waved her away. “Forget it. You had to be there.” She stabbed the omelet and shoved a miniscule piece of egg into her mouth, grimacing. “Maybe if you didn’t stuff vegetables into everything, I might eat what you make.”

  “It’s the only way I can get you to eat anything green.”

  “So who’s the bigmouth who squealed on me?”

  “No one.” Sam pulled the pitcher of unsweetened green tea from the fridge and poured two glasses. “Haven’t you learned by now mothers really do have eyes in the back of their heads?” She set their drinks on the table. “So tell me. Where were you first period this morning?”

  “Oh, jeez. Ms. Carlson called you, didn’t she? Like I told her, I was in the bathroom.”

  Oh, God, no. Sam held her palm to her dau
ghter’s forehead. “I knew you’d get sick—”

  “I’m fine.” Dani shoved Sam’s hand away, heaving an irritated huff. “Haley was just havin’ a crisis.”

  Not surprising. Dani’s friend had been through a rough year. Sam sank into the chair across from her daughter. “I appreciate that you wanted to support your friend, but you’re still doing time for this.”

  “Terrific. There goes any chance of me getting parole for last night. Just get it over with and ground me for life.”

  Dani had been isolated at home for too long. The last thing Sam wanted was to take her developing social life away. “Oh, no, sweet pea. Sitting in your room is way too easy. You’re doing hard time for this infraction. When you’re finished eating, you can start by weeding the front flower garden.”

  “I have no idea which plants are weeds.”

  “If it’s less than three inches tall, yank it. After you do that, you’ve got homework to catch up on. And you can leave your cell phone here on the table.” Sam pushed back her chair and stood. “I’ll be upstairs, sewing.”

  “What else is new?” Dani muttered, expressing her patent resentment of Sam’s fledgling business.

  Sam smoothed her daughter’s hair back and kissed her forehead. “I know you’re not happy about how much time I have to spend in my workroom, but you’ll hate it a whole lot more if we have no heat this winter.”

  ~*~

  That evening after work, Nick tugged on a clean pair of gym shorts and a T-shirt before opening the bathroom door to clear the steam from the mirror. After towel drying his hair, he headed into the living room. When his own voice suddenly began crooning on the stereo, he skidded to a halt. Bethany must have found the CD with the songs he’d written.

  “Oh-my-gosh!” she shrieked. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re in a band?”

  “I’m not. But I was years ago. Now, I just fool around and compose a little for fun.”

  “You call that foolin’ around? I bet you had, like, a zillion gigs.”

  “My buddies and I did all right.” After his marriage, Sam insisted he shouldn’t let her pregnancy stop him from following his dream. But finances still forced him to quit.

  When Sam’s blood pressure spiked six weeks before Dani was due, the doctor induced labor, and Nick barely made it to the hospital in time for her birth. Seeing Sam so sick and his premature daughter in an incubator left him terrified and depressed. That same night, the founder of Swann’s department stores discovered Nick bawling like a little girl in the hospital’s parking lot, trying to figure out how he could pay the mounting medical bills.

  Kenneth Swann helped him realize it was time to let go of his pipe dreams and put his family first. Before the CEO left that night, he handed Nick his business card and told him to get a haircut. The man then promised him a job with insurance and financial assistance to go to college. That was why Nick still felt such a deep obligation to Ken and his son, Ethan, who’d replaced Ken as CEO after he retired.

  “It seems like a million years ago,” Nick told Bethany.

  “I’d love to copy your CD. The lyrics in That Special Moment put a lump in my throat.”

  If that one choked her up, when she heard Two A.M. Love Song, she’d bawl her eyes out. “Be my guest.” He glanced at his watch. “I hope you don’t mind if turn in after I take Chewie out. I’m beat.”

  He’d awoken at four that morning in a pool of sweat from the same nightmare he’d had off and on for the last year. Each time, he was locked in the basement with Sam and Dani, surrounded by a maze of pipes springing leaks. No matter how many valves he turned or how fast he applied patches, new holes kept forming, and the water kept rising.

  It didn’t take a shrink to know he felt helpless. His life was out of control, and he was terrified of losing his family. What he couldn’t figure out was how to stop the damned dreams.

  Thinking about all he’d missed with Sam and his daughter in the past year, his throat ached. He wished they could see the new Beverley Hills store and all he’d accomplished. In the last six months, he’d worked around the clock, finalizing the store’s construction and coordinating the various departments to ensure each one was stocked and staffed in time for Saturday’s grand opening. They expected a record turnout.

  As he headed into to the bedroom to get his sneakers, Bethany called, “Oh, by the way, Samantha phoned while you were in the shower.”

  “Thanks.” Sam rarely initiated their calls, so his stomach plummeted in a freefall of trepidation. “Wait.” He froze in his tracks. “Did you tell her you’re staying here with me?”

  Guilt flashed across Bethany’s face. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t supposed to. I simply mentioned how much you miss Dani and how sweet you were to take me in. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t sweat it.” He strode into the bedroom and closed the door. Sinking onto the mattress, he stabbed out his old home number. “Hey, Sammy-bee. Did you get my check?”

  “Yes, it came today. Although, I’m not sure your daughter deserves it. You’re not going to believe what she’s been up to.”

  Uh-oh. Dani was always his daughter when she was in trouble. Sam took complete credit for anything wonderful their child did. “When we talked this morning, she said you grounded her for breaking her curfew. I hate to see her cooped up any—”

  “Is that what she called making it look as if she was asleep in her room and sneaking in after midnight, drenched to the bone? I thought we had a burglar and called 911.”

  He closed his eyes and pictured his wife cowering in her bed, terrified some psycho had broken in to kill her and Dani. If the situation wasn’t so serious, he’d laugh.

  “Fortunately, Jack Wallace was on duty. Oh, darn.” Sam huffed. “That’s my call waiting. It must be Adam—”

  “Adam? You mean Dr. Chase?” he asked, since Dani’s hematologist was the only Adam they knew. Why would her doctor be calling so late? Unless....“Is Dani okay?” Fear had sucked the moisture from his throat, making his voice rasp.

  “Yes, uhh....” Sam hemmed and hawed. “She’s fine.”

  A different kind of dread tightened his gut. From the first time they took Dani to see the specialist, the blond Adonis had ogled Sam like a jewel thief casing Tiffany’s. “Dani told me you’ve been dating someone. I knew that S.O.B. wanted you.”

  “So hip-hip-hooray for your clairvoyant power. You should get a job reading fortunes. Then you could say ‘I told you so’ every day of your life.”

  “Ha-ha.” The truth would only hurt, but he had to know. “Are you sleeping with him?”

  The phone was so quiet, at first, he thought Sam had put him on hold to talk to Dani’s doctor. But then in a tone that could flash-freeze the sun, she replied, “So what if I am?”

  Damn. Her refusal to give a straight answer probably meant she was.

  “The only part of my life I’m obligated to discuss with you is our daughter. So let’s stick to that subject. Otherwise, I might have to ask why you’re living with a girl who’s practically jail-bait.”

  “Fair enough,” he agreed through clenched teeth. Evidently Dani had mentioned her trip to Santa Monica with Bethany and told her mother how young his houseguest was. “FYI, the girl and I are just friends. I’m helping her through a rough patch.”

  “Uh-huh,” Sam muttered, blatant disbelief lacing her tone. “While I was waiting for you to call back, I asked Dani if she’s met your so-called friend. She showed me the pictures she took at the beach last spring. Frankly, I was shocked there wasn’t a staple in Bethany’s navel. Although, knowing what a boob man you are, it was no surprise you chose a double-D bimbo.”

  Okay, so she’d seen the girl’s centerfold breasts.

  He opened his mouth to defend his houseguest but snapped it shut again.

  Why bother trying to explain? It would serve Sam right if he let her think he was shacking up with some nubile hottie. “So enough about Bethany. What else has Danita done?”

  “The list is so
long I don’t know where to start. She refuses to eat the meals I make her. After she left her lunch home this morning, I chased after her just in time to see the little brat toss the Greek omelet I’d made for her in the drainage ditch.”

  He struggled not to laugh. “Sammy, no teenage girl wants to eat spinach in her eggs. Or teenage boy, for that matter.”

  “It’s the only way I can get her to eat any vegetables. She’s loading up on junk food, and last night she came home reeking of cigarettes. I’m spending a fortune on organic food and cooking from scratch so her diet is all natural, and she’s sucking in carcinogens.”

  So much for him giving up smoking to set a good example for their child. If that was the best of their daughter’s misdeeds, he didn’t want to hear the worst.

  “According to three of her teachers,” Sam continued, “she’s not doing a lick of homework, and she failed her first Spanish test.”

  “How? She speaks the language like a native.” He and Justin had made sure of that.

  “Yes, but she’s never written it.”

  “So where did she say she was last night?”

  “At the bowling alley. Supposedly, Allison’s mother got a flat on the way home.”

  “But that wasn’t really Dani’s fault.”

  “If you were an involved father, you would know our daughter’s not supposed to go out on school nights—at all.”

  Right. How the hell was he supposed to be involved from three thousand miles away?

  “On top of all that, her guidance counselor called this morning to tell me Dani also cut first period. It was her Human Development class with Jake Manion.”

  Whoa. That was bad. If she’d skipped Algebra, her least favorite subject, Nick could understand. But their neighbor, Jake Manion, an ex-NFL quarterback with two Super Bowl wins to his credit, was the high school’s football coach and an extremely popular teacher. The man nearly had his doctorate in psychology and connected with the students on a level none of the other teachers could match. His classes were always overfilled, and none of his students ever cut his class.